


Exaltation

by atroxareia



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (but shippy from the start bc duh), Angst, Happy Ending, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Unreliable Narrator, but im sure the endgame is super obvious, loosely (not too loosely) in greco-roman setting, many other ships and characters, rival generals au, unexpected oligarchic drama, will only tag the ones getting a lot of development
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 07:13:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14232030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atroxareia/pseuds/atroxareia
Summary: Kageyama Tobio, the newly appointed commander of the northern front, had Oikawa Tooru, his former mentor and now enemy of the state, on his knees, by the dawn of the fifth night of the open war. Oikawa had expected to die, after a vain comment or two.He did not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be. L O N G .
> 
> Main focus and endgame will be oikage by a significant margin and I'll note the additional ships or warnings in the beginning of each chapter bc this is going to involve a billion other ships and characters and I don't tag minor anything. While in this chapter there's only moderate development between Tsukishima and Kageyama and no Sakusa whatsoever, take my word for it when I say "a lot of development" LOL. But main ship/endgame is oikage without question.

 

The commander of the northern front continued to pace in the spacious tent as he distractedly listened to his advisors and soldiers of high rank in his command engage in a heated albeit trivial debate. _It’s over,_ he thought, _the war,_ but the matter was not brought to a close where he was concerned as long as there was that one thing to be cleared about which he did not have any information yet.

“You did _not_ kill a hundred men by yourself! What insanity-“

“If we want to be back home by the time blizzard hits, we should take our leave-“

“Excellency, is there any news from the Eastern-“

Despite the fact that it was one of the coldest nights of the winter, none of them seemed to feel the effects in the heat of their debate, and the commander, from the intensity of his thoughts. The night grew darker and colder as the young man’s focus went to and fro between his thoughts and the talk that offered him nothing new, not even a distraction from his current bothersome fixation. Now they seemed to be discussing if they had enough provisions to pursue the runaways or if they should wait for the next supply, which finally managed to pull him back to full consciousness.

“We will wait,” he interrupted them upon hearing the murmurs of wanting to leave the front and frowned even deeper, causing most of them to jolt and realize he had been silent for a good while. “We haven’t been called back yet and there are important names we need more information about. Unless they are confirmed dead or captured, waiting or staying is not a matter of discussion.”

His clear-cut response seemed to put a damper on their arguments, as most of it was centered on their desire to return home quickly, masked with other matters, circling the issue ineloquently. In less than five minutes, the vigorous band of men paid their respects and dissolved, going back to their own tents to sleep. After the session, only one man stayed behind with the commander who was still in a state of deep thought.

“You certainly convinced them,” the tall, blond man who was Kageyama’s main advisor and good friend from childhood, murmured in a cold, sly tone.

Kageyama sipped a little more from his cup where he sat without saying anything back for a moment.

“You make it sound like I was lying,” he finally replied.

Tsukishima could almost hear the scowl on his face and smiled. Kageyama knew him well enough that he could understand the subtlety to a degree however he was usually helpless in exercising it himself.

“You would have had me write an urgent letter to senate asking for permission to return to capital long ago, telling how utterly destroyed the enemy forces are,” he explained. “Adding that the main forces in the east have already surrendered, there is no point in prolonging this charade. In fact I would be surprised if there isn’t already a messenger on the road with a letter instructing us to return.”

Kageyama did not move to face him nor did he give an answer. Tsukishima was right behind him, staring at the fire himself.

There was a pause where Tsukishima processed he could not force his way to the intended point or make him admit it without being open himself. He knew that being direct was the best way to do things when it came to Kageyama but old habits died hard and he was nothing if not careful.

“Oikawa is not that easy to kill,” Tsukishima said finally, hands clasped behind his back. “And he’s a proud man. He’s not the type to forsake his pride to save his mortal life.”

Kageyama nodded absently at his words and _finally a response,_ Tsukishima thought, though _what an unsatisfying one._ Kageyama knew what sort of man Oikawa Tooru was much better than most anyone in their circle and Tsukishima had only been trying to get him to talk about this matter which they had been circling vaguely since the beginning of the war. Kageyama had had mentioned back then, that this war was important to him for that the victory or defeat was going to show who was superior – former student, now a fully-fledged commander or the old mentor, in the form of a newfound enemy. Enemy, no matter how rigidly Kageyama accepted it, was only a hollow word once the younger commander won; he had no reason to feel bitter or compete with him anymore. His unrepentant desire to learn and make good use of his old mentor’s talents had become priority the moment the war had concluded in his favor. Tsukishima wondered his reaction if he had lost, if he would be angry to a point of losing his cool or desperate for another change to compete. The advisor had never seen him fail at anything before, but having spent more than a decade with him, Tsukishima had no doubts that Kageyama would be excited to face whoever defeated him again. Nevertheless, now, Oikawa was a lot of things but enemy was not one of them to the man Tsukishima was supposed to correct and aid. It seemed absurd to the advisor how businesslike the young commander made everything sound when Tsukishima had sincere doubts that Kageyama could muster the animosity to take that last step needed to destroy Oikawa, which would have worked in his favour. He did not want to remind him that Oikawa likely would not see his offer as benevolent as it actually was in all sincerity, since he was on the losing side. It was easy for Kageyama who always had been in the advantageous position to act sympathetic and now the difference between their standing was too great to make amends. Once he was captured, in practicality, Oikawa was a war prisoner, and if Kageyama got his way with the senate, his slave for all intents and purposes, though he just loved to use the word advisor, much to Tsukishima’s chagrin, reminding him of his own position, and the obvious hypocrisy of it that the commander did not see. Kageyama didn’t _need_ to feel animosity – he could hold onto feelings of respect and anything more that were remnants from their past as much as he so wished, but it would be ridiculous to expect Oikawa to take this as lightly or thank him for the sparing of his life. He didn’t need to warn Kageyama about how the rival commander might behave. He mused it was not so relevant now that it was impossible to change Kageyama’s mind about it. Which was why they were having this mockery of a conversation in the first place.

Lack of a follow-up seemed to be the fashion that night. The main advisor exhaled in irritation. He knew when he was not being cared for and Kageyama’s one-track mind apparently was on that track quite efficiently tonight. Cold amber eyes focused on the back of his commander’s head, masking the intensity of his feelings masterfully. He knew almost everything about him but none of the knowledge made it easier to manipulate him when it came to certain things – Kageyama could be as rigid as cold steel. It was obvious what was bothering him so much, it was no hardship to figure out: there was a high chance the rival commander was already dead and gone and Kageyama was waiting for nothing.

“Should I leave you to whatever you’ve been fixating on?” Tsukishima asked with a sigh when Kageyama kept his silence; replacing the _who_ in the question to spare his own sanity rather than the commander’s dignity.

“Hm? No, I was listening.” Kageyama turned to him now, looking more guileless than he had any right to be. “I agree with you. I know that he won’t just sit and wait for death or try to save himself alone. We don’t need to pursue him, he will come to us. Their forces may be obliterated but I expect him to strike,” Kageyama’s eyes were wide and curious as they watched the fire dance, “At the most unexpected time.” _Recklessly,_ was left unsaid in the air.

Tsukishima nodded with an unpleasant feeling in his chest, recognizing that Kageyama was trying to convince himself rather than his companion. That was not just what he feared but what he hated to hear. Let alone waiting there pleasantly for Oikawa to do all their work for them, there was already a group after the enemy commander and the advisor could tell that Kageyama wanted to go after him himself, from how he stared at the soldiers leaving, his body alert and itching to move. He knew it would look terribly odd to the soldiers thus he suppressed the urge, returning with annoyed expression after they were gone. Kageyama had always overrated this man, from childhood. Tsukishima did not have the chance to witness their interactions at first hand save for a singular event, but he could deduce enough from how Kageyama talked about him, putting him on the highest pedestal, as if just one man was the only true obstacle between him and becoming the best. Oikawa was brilliant, yes, but so were a lot of people surrounding Kageyama. This was a fixation from boyhood, Tsukishima deduced, nothing more. Even now he waited for the may-or-may-not-be-dead but _certainly_ defeated commander, with possibly half a dozen wounded men he had, to strike at their base which was not even mildly harmed during the war with an impossibly amazing strategy. The advisor was aware that all Oikawa could do at this point was a suicide mission that would make a fool of him rather than salvage his pride. Kageyama’s enthusiasm did not sit well with him at all but the least he could do for his own good right now was to not ponder on why.

“In any case, even if he is alive with means to organize an attack, there isn’t much anything he can accomplish. If he’s foolish enough for a suicide mission with a handful of men, we won’t be caught off-guard, I can assure you.”

Kageyama nodded, still staring at the fire, not thinking for a moment that Tsukishima could be caught off-guard in any area of life. Being caught unprepared by whatever little forces Oikawa had left was not what occupied his mind. He had known him for a while back then, enough to understand how recklessly proud he was. Though he was famous for his diligence and astuteness, he was not calculating; he was intelligent but idealistic. Kageyama was worried that Oikawa,  having lost all hope, could throw himself to a sure-death mission in absolute self-punishment for this failure before Kageyama could stop him.

 _If_ he were still alive.

He had to be.

And Kageyama had to stop him.

He knew this line of thought did not become anyone of his position, and the man he was hell-bent on saving was technically his enemy, but he knew that Oikawa had too great a mind to die in vain like this, only because he had chosen the wrong side. If it had been an uninterrupted fight to death between only two of them, a perfect challenge he had been waiting for, he would have accepted the outcome but there was no need for such a dramatic action now. These were merely.. politics. There was no need at all for Oikawa to die.

He would see to that Oikawa, his once mentor, would survive. He had two objectives in mind ever since he was assigned to this mission - first was to win by all means and prove to himself that he had surpassed the only person he ever saw as a rival, and second, granted he accomplished the first and his mentor was still alive, was to retrieve Oikawa. Now that was his only objective left in this war and just as he had succeeded so far, he would overcome his last trial as well.

 

-

 

“I can’t find them - Iwaizumi and Hanamaki-“

Oikawa sank to the floor, not hearing the rest of Matsukawa’s words. He had known this – it was obvious, he could tell, from the loud humming in his head and from the fact they, people who never ever were late, hadn’t been back yet, he could feel it in his bones that they were caught or dead or both and now everything was ruined and the fault was his and his alone, if only he had been better, if only he had just –

“Wha- what about – eastern front?”

Talking was a chore with his teeth chattering, he couldn’t tell if it was the cold or the nerves. His tattered uniform performed very poorly to shield him from the harsh weather. _Northern front,_ he mused in the back of his mind, _always so cruel to him._

Matsukawa grimaced at the question.

“They,” Matsukawa paused while Oikawa waited in desperation for every bitter word that came out with difficulty, “surrendered, Oikawa. Before it was an all out war.”

Humming in his head escalated to a degree that almost knocked him clear off his feet. He felt faint with all power leaving his limbs, an urge to throw up arising.

“Hey,” Matsukawa patted him on the back, his own voice cracking.

Seeing his friend who always had been calm against all adversity from the beginning to the fallout lose his composure made it a thousand times worse. Oikawa felt nauseated with the feeling that Matsukawa had always known Oikawa pulled them to the wrong side, something Oikawa himself had always sensed deep inside; it was too terrible to think but it was right there in front of him, smiling in some devilish form, loudly repeating that Oikawa had driven them all to ruins because of his worthless pride and there was no way to undo it now, Matsukawa might not have said it out loud but they all knew, Oikawa _knew_ they _all_ fucking _knew_ that _he_ was the guilty one and he had to make amends somehow but when even his strongest friend whom he had not seen once fazed by any sort of hardship was breaking in front of him, then, what could he, who had been led astray by emotions all his life do?

“Oikawa,” Matsukawa’s voice sliced through the whirlwind of regrets, poisoning him with its painful tone. “Breathe. Here,” his friend whispered kindly, “Calm down. We aren’t dead yet, alright?” He rubbed the back of Oikawa’s neck and reached to hold his freezing hand while the latter tried with his all and failed to bite back tears. He let his head fall to Matsukawa’s chest, his free hand clutching at whatever was left of his uniform. The Eastern Front was where the general resided, whom Oikawa followed and trusted against the senate. It was only his fault that they were betrayed now; if he hadn’t trusted the promises the general made; hadn’t dreamt too desperately that people from senate would have no hold on him if they could _just_ succeed, if he hadn’t foolishly believed that the absolute freedom was within reach, then his friends wouldn’t be -

“Difference between their numbers were greater there, it seems,” Matsukawa droned on, his voice much more controlled now. Oikawa almost let out a chuckle that was halfway a sob. His friend was still trying so hard on his behalf. They stayed there for a while, a blank moment where neither could see the light.

“We have to save them,” Oikawa broke it finally, his voice coming out without shaking for the first time that night.

“Of course,” Matsukawa answered automatically, knowing the possibility they were dead was much higher and even if they were only captured but not executed yet, this was an obvious suicide mission. On the off-chance they succeeded, they still had nowhere to run to. They were pushed from south and east by enemy forces and were surrounded by sea on west and north beyond the mountain range, with no means to leave the mainland as the ships were destroyed. They could hope to hide in the mountains for a while if the gods of fortune decided to spare them for once until the searches were called off, but hoping to survive after attacking the enemy camp was too ridiculous to even consider.

Matsukawa wasn’t foolish enough to ignore that what they were about to do could only be called a suicide.

 

-

 

Oikawa seemed to regain some energy, similar to how patients get right before they die, Matsukawa reflected morbidly. He knew with absolute certainty that this action was going to result in their death, while they still had a glimmer of chance of slipping away from the enemy if they decided against the attack. Matsukawa inwardly sighed. Someone with Oikawa’s pride would never agree to run away to save his own neck and Matsukawa would never abandon him.

He remembered how everyone who knew him well enough would say that his pride would be his downfall - nobles, in a derogatory way for that the pride was considered unsightly for a commoner no matter the eminence, his own people, with a hint of admiration.  He smiled fondly at the thought, feeling of impending doom making him nostalgic as Oikawa heatedly talked about their strategy. He looked at his eyes, alight with some sickly fever and realized that he could never truly be mad at him.

 

-

 

It was funny, as if walking underwater, or dreaming, right between sleep and wakefulness. Oikawa felt an unexpected calm settle on him as he realized that Kageyama knew he would attack the camp. In some sort of daze while he was being dragged to the commander’s quarters, he acknowledged that he was finally beaten. Not only on the battlefield with many other factors to consider, but on a personal level that was independent of others’ shortcomings. Oikawa had been well aware what he planned was a suicide attack beyond all reasoning, but that was what gave him the edge as well - he had hoped he would catch the younger commander off-guard with his unpredictability. It would be a farewell – one last surprise, something magnificent before he died. It wouldn’t matter that he failed to inflict any important damage, he would still go with a bang; without submitting or running away like a coward. But instead, he had walked into a trap. With the way Kageyama managed to predict his move, everything he envisioned for his last moments on earth shattered. Last shreds of dignity left in him were taken away as he was forced to his knees by the soldiers, unwillingly submitting to his captor. To his greatest enemy. The rival commander stood taller than Oikawa remembered; taller, bigger and impertinently confident with his wide shoulders and serious face – certainly no longer a boy seeking his approval. Oikawa gritted his teeth at the sight, his detached state replaced by a scorching surge of bitterness.

There was a moment of silence where Kageyama took the view in and nothing moved except Oikawa’s shuddering intakes of breath, loud in his own ears. He looked at the ground in shame.

“Why don’t you hurry up and execute me, _your highness?”_

Kageyama gave him a look that appeared clueless, infuriating Oikawa even more, making him feel like he had been fooled; that he was being mocked in a way that can only be done by someone so utterly divorced from his plight. _I can’t believe you actually did what I thought you would,_ Kageyama’s look seemed to say, holding a childish, brash wonderment over his victory. Every little ministration awakened another stream of humiliation inside him. There was something so hard to swallow about how the expression would remind him of a past long gone if he only let it, where their positions were more vague, when Kageyama did not hold all the cards. When Oikawa at least had some things he could control.

“Oikawa.”

Kageyama addressed him as if only to say his name, not giving any reaction to his desperate taunt. Oikawa’s face contorted as he willed the tears away, frustrated, teeth clenched to a painful degree.

Tsukishima eyed Oikawa coldly over Kageyama’s shoulder, taking in details. His uniform was in tatters but one could still identify that it belonged to a high ranked soldier from up close. He was drenched in mud up to his knees and covered in dust all over, blood seeping from the open gash on his chest smearing his clothes. His hair was graciously messy and despite all his obvious discomfort, he still looked painfully attractive, maybe more so due to it. Kageyama looked at the man curiously as if Oikawa was a much coveted prize he had acquired through hardships, which wouldn’t be so far off to say, not an enemy commander he was supposed to execute. Tsukishima observed Kageyama from the corner of his eye then fixed his glance back on the enemy commander on his knees who was seemingly using all his energy to glare at his captor to keep whatever pride he had left intact, while the advisor was trying to stay neutral himself.

“Excellency.” Tsukishima cleared his throat.

Kageyama shook off imperceptibly and promptly frowned.

“Secure him appropriately to his position, he’s not a lowly criminal,” he ordered the soldier holding Oikawa down. “And bring him to my tent.”

With that he turned and left, leaving the soldier clearly disturbed by the notion of making a prisoner more comfortable.

 

-

 

He was almost ecstatic, his nerves alight, mind completely clear and despite not having slept last night at all and less than three the one before, his body was sizzling with energy as something he could not fully name made him feel as light as air. He kept pacing energetically in the tent, waiting for Oikawa’s arrival, thinking how he had not _just_ won, he had also completed his objective to the very end.

Oikawa was both what he had been expecting and something more – he faintly recognized that he visualized the man fairly often and had a clear idea of what he would look like right now. He felt that his vision fell short upon encountering him. Oikawa had grown up, surely, but he still had that youthful look to his face and had lost the advantage age brought now; Kageyama was the bigger of the two. The idea utterly pleased him, in the back of his mind.

The curtain was lifted and his men dragged Oikawa inside, obviously trying to act more careful after the warning but failing due to their own lack of sympathy and Oikawa’s reluctance to move. He had his wrists tied behind his back and a resigned but proud look on his face.

Kageyama motioned his men to leave.

“How brazenly confident of you to meet me alone.”

“If I were, I would have asked them to cut your ropes.”

Oikawa snorted humorlessly.

“You think you’re above me in hand to hand combat as well just because you defeated me in war?”

“I don’t really have an opinion on that,” he mused in an infuriatingly casual air, pouring wine into a engraved golden cup. “It’s been quite a long time since we sparred.”

Oikawa slightly frowned and became silent, trying to decipher Kageyama’s nonchalant demeanor. He was like a judge having small talk with a prisoner next to the guillotine to which he had just sentenced him to – did Kageyama not comprehend that or had he grown to be just that cruel?

“Cut the pleasantries short and do what you will.”

Kageyama tilted his head, eyes wide, with cup in one hand.

“What I will?”

Oikawa’s lips thinned in frustration at his childish confusion, authenticity of which he could not trust. There was a pause where Kageyama seemed completely blank and Oikawa was about to burst into a fit of rightful rage.

“Are you thirsty?” He soon after offered Oikawa the cup like they were simply old friends having a regular reunion.

“Are you mocking me?” Oikawa snarled.

“No?”

They looked at each other intently, with Oikawa trying to stare a hole in his face and Kageyama with that oblivious frown unperturbed.

“Yes, I am,” Oikawa finally gave up angrily, leaning towards the cup for Kageyama to move it to his lips. Kageyama carefully tilted the cup without a change in his expression, looking like making tied-up enemy commanders drink wine from golden cups was an everyday occurrence for him.

“Now that you’ve been such a pleasant host, could you get it over with,” Oikawa continued, averting his eyes, ashamed that he gave in to the urge, showing weakness in front of someone who already had him at his mercy.

Kageyama blinked in confusion at Oikawa’s reaction, then took a serious expression which felt like it lasted an hour to Oikawa’s overly active brain, counting all the possibilities on the verge of death.

“You’ve been defeated,” Kageyama put rather unnecessarily, and continued before Oikawa could react. “It’s not really a testament to your statagem. Your army was even more underdeveloped than we’d been informed.”

“And yours was more developed than we’d heard.”

One had to look strong when he was weak and look weak when he was strong. The fact he was at a disadvantage did not mean he made no mistakes – he still could have won with what he had, he had learnt such examples, he had been educated his whole life to avoid this very moment and he knew that while it wasn’t an indicator of his own talent, it was a testament to Kageyama’s, with how quick they were to fall against them. Oikawa knew when he was defeated and he had no intention of letting anyone pamper and praise him when he didn’t deserve it.

But Kageyama simply nodded at his statement, looking unsure why that mattered; he didn’t want Oikawa to take it the wrong way, thinking that Kageyama was finding excuses for him. He cared very little about things that did not yield to great results.

“I never said I didn’t beat you,” he replied. “I meant that this doesn’t deem you worthless.”

Oikawa felt the explosive anger bubble up in his throat; it was that tone he hated to hear the most, as if he or anyone had the right to preach from such high ground, as if Oikawa begged for his approval, as if Oikawa was _his_ student instead -

“Your talents going to waste is a crime altogether. To be clearer, I want to learn more from you,” Kageyama said bluntly.

“What the-”

“Our time was cut short,” Kageyama continued like no one interrupted him. “You must remember.” Unfortunately, that was all Oikawa could think about. “You were the greatest tactician I ever served under,” Kageyama mused with a distinct lack of sentimental admiration in his voice, sounding like he was making a scientific statement instead.

Oikawa, unable to process everything, chose to focus on the last part of his sentence and narrowed his eyes - _served under_ was a quite a stretch. The son of a senate member simply did not serve under anyone as a commoner would. He was there to be taught by him, not work for the republic; it would be more appropriate to describe Oikawa as his private instructor than anything else. Born to a family of highest social standing, even if he had been a terrible tactician, a complete fool in the matters of war, he still would have been able to reach far above the dust Oikawa struggled so hard to rise from and sadly that was not the case. If only it had been, then he could mock them all and lament at the unfair way the world worked, bitter and proud. However, Oikawa had soon realized Kageyama possessed a brilliant mind that rivaled his own and the frustration that came from the fact Kageyama seemed to have everything in life drove Oikawa to even betray -

“If you didn’t notice, I lost the battle,” he repeated hollowly, not having anything else to say to cut his own line of thought.

“Your army did, yes.”

Oikawa was too stunned, too tired of everything. _This is so like him,_ he thought before he could stop himself and memories of their time together flooded his mind; how he was instructed to teach that precious noble boy everything he knew – how pressured he was, the son of a former slave and a commoner, next to the up and coming genius son of a senator, how violently he hated his father and everything he represented, how excruciating every little thing about the boy had become, from his beautiful face to his clear mind, caring about nothing else but his goals and having that luxury in life to not give a damn..

And now, ten centimeters away from his fallen rival’s face, trusting him to not bite his perfectly straight nose off, he was staring at him with his still too wide and too clear dark blue eyes shining with that familiar childlike enthusiasm, as if he hadn’t just conquered everything Oikawa had given up his all for.

“I want you to be my consultant,” Kageyama said, grabbing his shoulders, now with a dark, obstinate look on his face. “I’m confident I can plead your case. In any case, even refused, I’ll try to find a way,” he continued, not even bothering to lower his voice, like he did not just imply to conspire against the senate with an enemy general.

Oikawa’s mouth was gaping, no sound coming out. He knew him, how recklessly single-minded he could be when it came to getting his way, yet he could never foresee him doing something so whimsical. Oikawa had entered this tent, fully expecting Kageyama to flaunt his superiority, but now he could see that he had not changed at all, like Oikawa thought he would, turning into an exemplary and much despised member of his class. Oikawa didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry but he was just as guilelessly steadfast as he had been back then, not knowing what no meant, pursuing his goal at all costs, in such a pure way even Oikawa could not bring himself to detest. Privileged from before he was born, comfortable at the top of society with no place for any form of insecurity, possibly no one ever said no to anything he wished. Why was he fixated on saving Oikawa? Was he the only one to ever set something akin to a boundary for him? Did that father of his even bother to lecture him on anything, forbid him from things as he was so fond of doing when it came to others, were there even a need for it when he accomplished so much, save for ‘such inappropriate relationships’ he seemed to pursue that was frowned upon, as how the man lectured Oikawa even though he had nothing to do with it, how was any of it his fault, why was this happening to him, he did not want to teach anything to anyone nor be spared so disgracefully by his enemy, he merely wanted to be a soldier for what else was there for someone in his position, why was he chosen as a mentor to that boy who was destined to surpass him, _why did he have to stand the fact that -_

“No.”

Kageyama, hands still on Oikawa’s arms, did not seem to understand.

“I don’t want to have anything to do with you, Kageyama,” Oikawa hissed out, voice low but clearly heard throughout the space. “And I sure as hell won’t become your slave.”

Kageyama tilted his head a bit and blinked again with that exasperating obliviousness.

“My slave?” He was staring into Oikawa’s eyes, strong hands clasping his shoulders almost forcefully now, the size difference between them and the fact that he was tied up suddenly becoming all too clear to Oikawa who thought he finally managed to anger him and now he had to suffer the consequences.

“I would never treat you or think of you as a slave if that’s what you’re worried about,” Kageyama said plainly instead, frowning in a berating way as if Oikawa was the one saying outrageous things. “I only wish for you to become my consultant.”

Oikawa didn’t know what to say in response. He was still angry, that much was certain but no matter what sort of madness Kageyama was uttering, he ended up saying the right things and Oikawa was impossibly frustrated that he couldn’t find an excuse to yell at him and find him deplorable and declare dramatically that he would welcome death sooner than be helpful to someone as degenerate as him.

“This is crazy,” was what he could say.

“Senate gives a great deal of value to mind,” Kageyama said like he was talking to a child, “And I’m a member of it, so is most of my circle. I don’t think it would be a problem to convince them of the merits of letting you live under my supervision.”

“Under your supervision?” Oikawa spat out, finally managing to feel outraged by something. “What am I, your liege?”

“That’s the only way you can be allowed to live. Don’t be so unreasonable.”

“I refuse.”

“I refuse your refusal.”

“Huh?”

“I knew you would put your pride before your life. I’m not letting that happen,” Kageyama said without an ounce of hesitation. 

“What are you going to do, keep me tied like this forever so I won’t kill you then myself?”

“If you think that’s necessary?” _Oikawa is still just as dramatic,_ Kageyama thought with slight amusement.

“You can’t force me to tell you how to beat your enemies better!”

“I know.”

“….Then what’s the point.”

Kageyama looked at him with an expression as if Oikawa had said something incredibly stupid.

“You realize you’ll be alive?”

Oikawa only gaped at him, unable to deal with his honesty. He was frustrating - on one hand Oikawa wanted to rebel against anything he said, but on the other, he made him feel treacherously safe.

Perceiving the prolonged silence as a sign of acceptance, Kageyama let go of his shoulders and moved back to a respectful distance. Oikawa did not say anything else until he was taken away to another tent; he was too scared to ask that one question, maybe of his own reaction to Kageyama’s answer more than anything else. Kageyama seemed pleased with the thoughtful silence Oikawa had fallen into and absently drank from the cup he formerly offered to Oikawa, making the latter jolt out of the trance he was in. Before he could stop himself his eyes focused on where Kageyama’s lips connected to the cup, awakening something in him that felt like the beginning of something frighteningly intimate.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama: We may have won the war however there's still that dude I gotta bone  
> Tsukishima: Well I’m not helping you on that  
> Tsukishima, 10 chapters later: Well I may have accidentally helped you on that


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: Meanie Elitist Sakusa, Tsukishima being his neurotic self, Kageyama wanting to dominate Oikawa

Kageyama started to feel the long-overdue exhaustion once Oikawa was secured in his place. Immediately relaxing, he threw himself to the lounge facing the fire and continued to drink the rest of the wine, which was a surprisingly greater amount than he was used to, a faint, indiscernible smile on his face as he resumed his distracted stare at the flames dancing, this time, at peace.  

Oikawa had taken it better than Kageyama thought he would. He had imagined Oikawa might have at the very least attempted to attack him, even when his arms were bound. He seemed more speechless than anything else in the face of his former enemy’s offer. Kageyama felt incredibly pleased with what he had found that night. It had been years since he'd seen him - someone sentimental would reminiscence, but Kageyama was too focused on the reality of what he had just witnessed; there was something so gratifying about what he had achieved, every detail coming together to fit like puzzle pieces. He had finally beaten the man he had assumed was the best for years, even though senate did not properly reward his talents back then when he was still their soldier, it did not matter to the young commander; Kageyama trusted his own judgment the most; he had seen his potential and he knew how great Oikawa could have been, given the chance. It was a pity that the first time he ever got to command such a large force ended up as his last war, only to be defeated at the hands of his former student. Kageyama allowed himself a rare smile; he wasn't as arrogant nor narrow-minded as to think that this was the pinnacle of achievement, no matter how certain he was that no other commanders he had known could ever compete with either of them, but he could not help feeling absolutely delighted at his victory and his enemy's loss. Oikawa seemed so delirious in his despair when he was forced on his knees, looking up at him in a way that spoke of desperation for one last fight, something Kageyama would never let him have. It was so exhilarating to know how his fate was in his hands now, from the simplest detail to the greatest choice; Oikawa did not have the freedom to ask for another chance nor to take his own life. Kageyama was no stranger to owning slaves, not by any stretch of the imagination, but this just felt different altogether. Owning slaves – he was reminded then how he had declared that he would not to treat Oikawa as such, but that did not mean he had to pretend blindness to the facts, since his former mentor was, for all intents and purposes, his slave now, that was not something he could change by declarations of goodwill, he would remain as his slave in everyone’s eyes – never fazed him before, he had never once stopped to think about it for a moment. He had just accepted it as a natural part of everyday life, ever since childhood, just as everyone had. Kageyama frowned at himself when he realized how excited he was about this train of thought which was just so foreign. It was absolutely unpredicted as he was convinced he had no desire to inflict any torture upon him or use his power over him in any unseemly way. The idea, in its core, left a bad taste in his mouth. It would be cowardly to act that way, he found it revolting to mistreat people who had no way of defending themselves, but even the idea Oikawa now had no way of defending himself against him sent a shiver down his spine. Right after he had assured him about his place, as nicely as he could manage, the way his thoughts ran so freely in directions he had not anticipated was disconcerting, made him feel like he did not know himself at all, like his mind was suddenly home to a stranger. And yet, he felt too ecstatic to bother with the confusion, his mind replaying the scene where he was held down, his uniform torn and his pale skin of his torso visible, with the vague disappointment this was not a result of a fight with himself directly. Oikawa's big eyes seemed to look at him with so much emotion, he wanted to see that reaction again, _now-_

“Are you still awake?” Tsukishima was back after seeing to Oikawa’s securing.

“Going to sleep in about five minutes.”

“Good. You slept ten hours at most in the last five days,” Tsukishima said in a disapproving tone.

“So did you.”

“Fifteen, I would say,” Tsukishima answered after a brief consideration. “But I’m not the one leading the army.”

“We need to write to Sakusa,” Kageyama abruptly changed the topic. With him everything had to be done immediately, even when he was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion.

Tsukishima felt every inch of his body jolt in displeasure in response.

_“Now?”_

“I need to let him know that I’ve captured Oikawa.”

Tsukishima pursed his lips to stop himself before he said something wrong, rubbing his  temples, cursing the night that was seemingly without an end.  _Just when he thought he could get some rest and ignore everything that had happened._  This day had been most annoying – first, their little melodramatic reunion with gracelessly hostile and much despised Oikawa Tooru, now writing to that demented, judgmental, possessive, irreconcilable Sakusa Kiyoomi - possibly his second least favourite person after the aforementioned general, but he surmised it would be quite the contest between the two.

“Do you think he will _actually_  try to help? Maybe you should ask Ushijima instead.”

“Why wouldn’t he try?”

 _I could think of a million reasons,_ Tsukishima thought sarcastically but refrained from saying it out loud. How tired he was was loosening his mouth. Kageyama didn’t care for things relating to jealousy and weaknesses such as that and Sakusa on the exterior appeared to have similar disposition, which was why he and Kageyama got along so well, but Tsukishima could easily see that was not the case. Sakusa may have had the appearance similarly neutral and as devoid of emotion as Kageyama was but he was someone who simply hid his true nature unlike Kageyama and he did it quite well. He was known for his icy behaviour and bad temper but he was scarily passionate and ruthless bordering on cruel. Kageyama had been convinced that that particular quality of his only applied to warfare and politics, the product of the resolute efforts spent by the older one to make him believe that he was not some overly possessive lover looking to tie him down. But Tsukishima had seen enough evidence of the truth, not the mention not everyone could separate their tendencies like Kageyama easily believed they would, but Tsukishima rather did not lecture him on human nature. The last thing he wanted was to complicate the matters between the four of them further, he thought, reluctant to include himself in this little group, feeling like he was exaggerating his role among them.

“In any case, I told him about my plans before I left so it would make the best sense,” Kageyama brushed the suggestion off. Tsukishima remembered that talk, he had been misfortunate enough to witness that. It was awkward, to say the least, but Kageyama did not seem to notice. He had talked about Oikawa in a strange manner, as if he was some mythical creature, a half god of war, half debilitatingly human to a point that he was a silly, temperamental pet Kageyama was awfully fond of and did not want to put down even when he was sick beyond any hope of recovery, while Sakusa had a dark expression on his face. Kei himself hadn’t been all that bothered about it during that time for he did not believe that Oikawa really would turn out to be the general on the northern front – nor did he think things would escalate this far. Fate was a strange thing and it surely had no fondness for the advisor. He cursed himself for choosing  _this_  instance to be so optimistic about out of all those things he could have - he rarely made such mistakes. He never really could afford to act so carelessly. Somehow, the idea that Kageyama would end up fighting against the man he had idealized for so many years and capturing him to boot, was too comically cruel to even think. Back then he had thought this was just Kageyama being childish for once, wanting to go into war for personal reasons, without even the means to make sure it really was him at that front he was seeking assignment to, since the rebel forces did a good job of spreading misinformation. He didn’t know how he could have prevented all this, but he was filled with regret that he did not even try. To Kageyama he could have said that there was no victory to be gained by such action, he could have at least tried to convince him that Oikawa would not be there. Or that it was absolutely graceless for a student to fight against his former mentor, no matter how he now was a betrayer of the republic, even could have used the nature of the aristocrats; pointing out that a high noble choosing someone who was born of a slave as an opponent, no matter how much of a high achiever, was something ridiculous in the eyes of the community. Nevertheless, there was no point in beating himself up about it now, but the existence of the rival general beside them had turned out to be infinitely more disturbing than the idea itself. He had wanted to believe this was one of those things whose reality would turn out to be a lot less horrible than what he had expected but it was the exact opposite. It was already hard to tolerate and it had not even been one hour since his capture. Tsukishima tried to will away the dread settled in his chest, warning him that something horrible was about to happen any moment. It was just him being morbid. It wasn’t like Oikawa was a some black magician waiting for a chance. He was surely the most shaken of them all; he was a captive in the hands of his old student to whom he could never measure up, beaten and alone, waiting for a verdict that was dependent on people who hated everything he represented. Furthermore, the only one who wanted him alive seemed to be acting out on a whim, and he was the absolute worst candidate for the job, having humiliated him in ways Oikawa could not even admit to himself. He was too proud to act level-headedly in this situation, Tsukishima rationalized, it was likelier he would soon get himself killed. The advisor needed to calm down for both his and Kageyama’s sakes and stop seeing Oikawa as a great danger. He did not have any power over either of them, it was on the contrary; even he, practically powerless to go against the likes of Sakusa Kiyoomi, had an inordinate amount of power over Oikawa Tooru. But something about the fact he was now so close to Kageyama put the advisor on the edge.

“I’ll write him tomorrow,” Tsukishima said, looking at Kageyama’s tired face. “You should sleep now.”

Kageyama nodded briefly, too tired to argue, surprisingly mild for someone like him, before drifting off to sleep.

 

-

 

“Any letters from the front?”

Sakusa Kiyoomi, a high general and an even higher regarded member of the senate, refused to wait for the breakfast to ask his servants about the daily correspondence as was appropriate and pushed the doors open unexpectedly vigorously at five am sharp.

“No, Excellency,” his butler bowed and replied respectfully, trying to hide how rattled he was by the interruption, noting the displeased and impatient expression on his master’s face. It didn’t seem like he had gotten any sleep at all, again.

Upon hearing the answer, the man left the room abruptly without acknowledging even having heard it. He was feeling extremely agitated ever since he had discovered the reason why Kageyama wanted the command of the northern front. Something he had assumed was a childish whim to apply what he knew in theory to the practice, turned out to be a long-lasting obsession of the younger man. After he got the news that it was indeed Oikawa who was the commander of one of the three major arms of the rebel forces during the siege that lasted for months, able to tell Kageyama’s excitement from even how he dictated the letter. One of them was even written by him personally, which was something he rarely did if ever, serving as a proof to his excitement, frustrating the older commander even more.

He had been with Kageyama for quite a while now, and he had no intention of letting anything change that, let alone a rebel commander who was reduced to a slave, and born from a slave. Kageyama was too naive not to care, but Sakusa had an obligation to him, not just as a lover, but as a protector. He had no pity for the rebel who was captured by his lover and he was willing to do everything in his power to see him executed appropriately to his lowly position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama: *pets Oikawa's head*  
> Oikawa: *chomps on his hand*  
> Kageyama: *doesn't notice, continues to pet*  
> Oikawa: *gives in*  
> Tsukishima: *gets bandages*  
> Sakusa: *gets a gun*


End file.
